


Caught

by Starryfull13



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fluff, Morning After, Other, crowley is a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starryfull13/pseuds/Starryfull13
Summary: Aziraphale wakes to find the bed empty next to him and discovers something that will probably be a lasting memory between them.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> So this came from a writing prompt that I have taken a bit of artistic licence with. Not sure why I seem to be imagining nothing but absolute sweetness with these two as it's not usually my thing but hey. Hope you enjoy!

Aziraphale felt fuzzy as he floated away from the place where you are half asleep toward fully awake. He gave a lazy wiggle, snuggling more into the softness of the bed and fluffy pillow. Still unwilling to open his eyes and leave the peace behind.

He did not usually partake in sleeping, however, occasionally tiredness would overcome him. Especially after spending some intimate time with Crowley. The memory of their time together the previous night fluttered across his mind bringing a smile to his face.

Half begrudgingly Aziraphale rolled over leaving the floating feeling behind to find Crowley. His arm reached out to hold the demon, falling through the air to hit the mattress with a light thump. Aziraphale’s eyes opened with a frown staring at the empty, dishevelled space next to him in the large bed.

He considered how odd it was for him to wake after Crowley as he rose to prop himself up against the pillows to survey the rest of the room. Light poked through the gaps between the curtains to reveal the room was empty. Apart from himself of course.

The door was open a crack with some muffled noise escaping through it, and a smell of cooking. Aziraphale’s frown deepened as he reached for his clothes that were miraculously folded and sitting on an ornate chair next to the bed.

The chances of food cooking in the flat were exceptionally low making the situation extremely perplexing.

Neither the angel nor demon were particularly talented (or more appropriately capable) in the kitchen. Aziraphale’s skills were very specific and leaned towards baking. Which most of the time turned out edible. As long as he didn’t get too distracted by a book when the mixture was in the oven. His attempts at making meals were not nearly as successful and best left not mentioned again.

Since Crowley didn’t share the Angel’s passion for food he had not been interested in trying. (Or so the angel thought. Crowley would make blessedly sure he would never find out about all the disasters in his kitchen while practicing cooking for his angel.)

Once dressed Aziraphale determinedly headed for the door to investigate. Briefly stopping at the grand mirror to ensure he was dressed properly. Even though the world did almost end he still had standards! His coat and bow tie did remain on the chair however. Slowly he was relaxing, probing the freedom he now had with small, tiny steps.

En route to the kitchen Aziraphale passed the statue from the Church. A fond smile couldn’t help growing as he recalled his revelation for his feelings towards Crowley after his downplayed gesture with the books. How different their lives were now. No hidden meanings with words and actions.

A loud clang broke his train of thought and reminded him of his current task. Nearing the kitchen Aziraphale could tell the noise was music, something he vaguely recognised from the Bentley. He could faintly hear something else as well as the racket exuding from the room.

Reaching the kitchen the door was half closed over. He peered through the space to see Crowley with his back to him at the cooker in a black silk robe, mumbling away to himself. Aziraphale considered the way Crowley was moving would be called dancing. Though wiggling your hips, swaying and tapping your feet was certainly not the gavotte.

Aziraphale opened the door fully to take in and appreciate the sight. The kitchen was covered in flour with utensils and bowls on every surface. The bowls seemed to contain various things ranging from strawberries to some unidentifiable cake like mixture.

Crowley’s phone sat in what was apparently called speakers causing the racket. Not that the music was really loud, just not to Aziraphale’s taste. Although this was one of the “bands” more tolerable songs.

He noticed Crowley was doing something with a frying pan on the hob when the smell hit him concluding what Crowley was up to. Affection surged through Aziraphale as his heart swelled and eyes crinkled. He leaned against the doorframe for support, gazing at the demon.

The moment changed as Crowley started to bob more forcefully with the music, increasing in energy as the song continued. His mumbling becoming louder and clearer by the second.

“Find me somebody to love. Find me somebody to love. Find me somebody to love, love, love, love.”

Crowley grabbed a spatula that was sitting next to the counter. He swung it toward him to use a a microphone as he moved back from the cooker to dance more extravagantly.

“Find me somebody to love. Somebody, somebody, somebody, somebody. Somebody find me.”

Crowley was completely absorbed in the moment as he danced wildly. Aziraphale had to bight his lip to stop him from ruining it.

“Somebody find me somebody to love. CAN ANYBODY FIND ME-”

Crowley whirled round, finally realising Azidraphale was watching. He locked eyes with Azirahale before cutting himself off with a squeak as the song climaxed in the background. His eyes wide, frozen to the spot with his arm raised above his head.

Crowley dropped his arm down as his expression softened into one of the most awkward smiles Aziraphale had seen. Aziraphale unable to contain himself any longer erupted with laughter.

“Oh Crowley what on earth?” Aziraphale chuckled once he regained control of himself, wiping away a tear that had formed in his eye.

“Um.” Crowley audibly swallowed. “Couldn't sleep. Thought I’d make breakfast in bed.” His voice shook as he gestured to the crepe in the pan which was beginning to burn with the distraction.

Crowley’s face began to develop a pink tinge as Aziraphale crossed the kitchen and encircled his arms around Crowley’s waist pulling him in closer.

“My dear.” Aziraphale’s voice oozed with emotion and adoration as he beamed. “You truly are, incredibly sweet and kind.”

“Shut up.” Crowley groaned as Aziraphale’s hand slid up his back to reach the back of his head, gently drawing it closer before placing a loving kiss to his dry lips.

The crepe burned to a crisp in the frying pan next to them as the minutes passed on, not that either the angel or demon cared at that moment of time. There were some things that were more important.

**Author's Note:**

> Person A is up early making person B breakfast, the radio is on and person A is dancing at the counter while making breakfast. They turn around and notice person B stood at the door, they smile awkwardly and person B bursts out laughing.


End file.
